


sorry i don't want your touch (it's not that i don't want you)

by knoxoursavior



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Hand Jobs, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 14:20:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16518116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knoxoursavior/pseuds/knoxoursavior
Summary: It wasn't supposed to happen.





	sorry i don't want your touch (it's not that i don't want you)

**Author's Note:**

> im gonna write singeiji until i run out of mitski lyrics to use as titles ! :~(

It wasn’t supposed to happen.

They were just supposed to take this one night to drink their memories away, to drink themselves to sleep. They were supposed to wake up the next morning, chests just as heavy before, and they were supposed to pretend like they didn’t spend last night trying to drown themselves in alcohol.

They weren’t supposed to end up like this, with their clothes off halfway, skin against skin, bathed in desperation. They weren’t supposed to end up like this, because this isn’t right. Because this isn’t what either of them really want, but somehow, in this moment, with warmth sparking in Sing’s chest for the first time in what feels like ages, he can’t muster up enough energy to stop himself.

Eiji’s lips against his, the feeling of Eiji under him, so warm, so alive, so unlike how he’s been the past few years—it helps Sing forget, makes anything else but what’s happening right now seem irrelevant. Eiji is the only clear thing in Sing’s world right now, the only thing that feels real.

Sing doesn’t remember who first closed the distance between them, who first reached out and held on, but it’s him who crosses the line, who takes the next step and drags Eiji along with him. It’s Sing who slides further down the bed so he can bend over and take Eiji’s half-hard cock in his mouth. It’s Sing who interlaces his fingers with Eiji’s, who listens to the hitch in Eiji’s breath and responds to it by licking a stripe up the underside of Eiji’s cock.

It’s Sing who looks up at Eiji, sees him staring blankly back, eyes half-closed and unfocused, who thinks  _ more, I need to do more _ . He’s supposed to be taking care of Eiji, making sure he’s okay, that he’s the closest to okay that he can be without—

Well.

If he’s going to distract Eiji, to help him forget, just for a night, he’s going to do his very best to try.

So he wraps his lips around the head of Eiji’s cock, wraps his free hand around everything else his mouth doesn’t reach. His palm is dry, drags against Eiji’s skin when he starts pumping his hand up and down and up and down, but still, it does the job. Sing hollows out his cheeks, swirls his tongue around the head before he slides further down onto Eiji’s hard cock, inch by inch by inch until he can’t take anymore. Eiji’s gasp of breath is rewarding, and so is the hand now in Sing’s hair, pulling hard enough that Sing moans.

Eiji jolts, thrusts his cock further down Sing’s throat, and he does nothing but take it. His eyes water and he has to fight the urge to back away, but Eiji has his head thrown back and his lips are so obviously bitten red even through Sing’s blurry vision so it’s fine. Sing is  _ fine _ . He stays where he is and he lets Eiji fuck into his mouth, stays there until Eiji whimpers and tugs at his hair, pulling and pulling until Sing realizes that Eiji is actually trying to get him off this time. So Sing pulls away, looks up at Eiji with his eyes wide, doubt resettling in the pit of his stomach.

“Eiji?”

Eiji slips his arms under Sing’s, pulls him up so he can press a kiss into Sing’s hair, his temple, his cheeks. He whispers apologies into Sing’s skin, again and again like a broken record, he says, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Sing.”

Sing doesn’t know why Eiji’s saying sorry when he should be the one apologizing instead.

He feels panic start in his chest, feels it when his throat closes up, crammed with words he isn’t brave enough to say, too many, too intimidating. He knows he needs to say something, needs to tell Eiji that everything’s fine, that they don’t need to continue if he doesn’t want to, needs to tell himself that he didn’t just fuck up—

But Eiji kisses him before he can even settle on something to say. Eiji’s tongue against his sweeps away all the half-formed thoughts in Sing’s mind, and Eiji’s hand on the back of his neck, holding him close, drains out any of the doubt left in Sing’s body.

This time, it’s Eiji who reaches out, who takes both of their cocks in his hand. It’s Eiji who moans into Sing’s mouth, who pulls away from their kiss only to bite at Sing’s lower lip and buck his hips when Sing’s hand joins his.

This close to Eiji, Sing can see how long his eyelashes are, how flushed his skin is from his face to his neck to what of his chest isn’t covered by his half-undone button-up. This close to Eiji, Sing looks at him and thinks,  _ beautiful _ . Eiji has always been bright and warm and kind, but now Sing looks at him and  _ sees _ . Now, Sing understands and it makes him sick because he doesn’t deserve this. Because it’s not his place to see Eiji like this.

And yet—

And yet, he presses his forehead to Eiji’s, focuses on the feeling of Eiji’s hand on his cock, the drag of Eiji’s cock against his, focuses on Eiji’s breath warm against his lips, the little sounds escaping from Eiji’s mouth, the whimpers and the whines and the groans that leave Sing breathless every time he hears them. 

When Eiji bites his lower lip, those sounds are stifled, so Sing leans in and takes all of them for himself.

The come like that, together, connected from their mouths to their hands to their legs, tangled together.

It’s Eiji who pulls away first. His hand shifts from Sing’s nape to his jaw to his cheek. His eyes when they open are sad.

“You’re so good to me, Sing,” Eiji says, but Sing feels something in his chest crack anyway.

“I’m sorry,” Eiji repeats, and Sing understands.

“It’s okay,” he says, and he has to stay there and watch as Eiji nods, as Eiji disentangles himself from the mess they’ve made.

The words leave a bitter taste on his tongue. It stays with Sing for the rest of the night, and so does the image of Eiji, back turned as he walks away.

Sing doesn’t know why his heart is aching so much, when this night was never meant to be  _ anything  _ in the first place. 

  
  


When they wake up the next morning, they pretend like nothing happened, so they do one thing right, at least.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on [tumblr](http://singeiji.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/singeiji) :~(


End file.
